


Snowman Family

by Gleennui



Series: High Heat Snapshots [1]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Baseball, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Puck uses Pinterest, australian baseball league, baseball Pinn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-14
Updated: 2014-12-14
Packaged: 2018-03-01 09:16:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2767787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gleennui/pseuds/Gleennui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Playing in the Australian Baseball League is a huge coup for MiLB players Finn and Puck, but neither of them realized how much Finn would be homesick at Christmas.</p><p>For Fuckurt Advent -- Day 14</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowman Family

“This is so weird.” 

Puck looks up from where he’s been lowering the temperature on the AC for the third time in the last hour. Finn’s shirtless and in flip-flops, idly rubbing at his shoulder. 

“‘s not your rotator cuff, is it?” Puck frowns and heads for the freezer. “Sit down,” he calls over his shoulder. 

When Puck walks back in the living room, balancing 2 bags of ice and a roll of gauze in one hand and two Swan Golds in the other, Finn’s still standing in the middle of the room, looking around. 

“Just sore from my bullpen--thanks,” Finn grabs the beer Puck’s nudging toward him. “But this whole thing is weird. It’s Christmas Eve and we had to sleep with the fan in our faces last night.” 

Puck chuckles and steers Finn to the couch. He starts wrapping the ice on Finn’s arm while Finn keeps talking.

“...and I know we have the tree, but it makes the room feel too hot when it’s on and plus we don’t have my ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ ornament!” Finn turns to Puck, and he looks so distraught that Puck leans over and kisses his temple. Truthfully, Puck’s not sure that turning on the tree lights wouldn’t knock _all_ their power out, and they need the AC more than they ever needed multicolored strings of lights in the apartment. 

Puck finishes the makeshift ice sleeve and opens his own beer, gesturing to Finn’s. It’s too bad they couldn’t turn Perth into Lima for 48 hours. He kisses Finn’s cheek again and carefully settles in next to Finn’s side, taking pulls from his beer. 

“We’ve got that ham, anyway?” Puck offers quietly after a moment, and slides his fingers between Finn’s. “And I got your mom’s recipe for that cherry thing she puts on it.” Finn squeezes Puck’s hand and sighs so big Puck moves up and down with it. 

Something occurs to Puck, and he tries not to sit up too fast and jostle Finn’s shoulder with excitement. Instead, he gently pulls the beer out of Finn’s hand and stands up. 

“Naptime?” Puck holds a hand out and raises his eyebrows in what he hopes is a convincing way. “I have to finish wrapping your gifts, anyway, and then I’ll go get dinner at Coles. Okay?” 

Finn lets Puck pull him up with his left hand. “Presents?” 

Puck grins at the first smile he’s seen from Finn since they left the ballpark. “You just wanted a new jock and some socks, right? I figure to really make it feel like your mom’s here…” 

Finn laughs, but sounds uncertain, like he’s not sure if presents are just going to be one more disappointing part of Australia Christmas. Puck rubs Finn’s back as they walk into the bedroom, and once Finn’s settled in bed with an alarm set for the ice sleeve to come off, Puck kisses him, lingering for a few seconds, and pulls back just far enough to whisper.

“I love you, and I swear on Kirby Puckett, no socks.” 

Finn laughs against Puck’s mouth and kisses him one more time. Puck makes sure the fan’s on high and the door’s closed and then heads right for his phone. He googles “how to make fake snow” and ends up on Pinterest, much to his dismay. But it’s good enough, and he adds the ingredients to his Coles app, shoving his feet in flip-flops before the screen’s even off. With one last detour to turns the AC down another three degrees, Puck heads out at a jog. If he moves fast enough, Finn won’t wake up until he’s done. 

Coles is a nightmare, just as Puck expected, and he’s pretty sweaty by the time he gets there, but at least they’re not out of anything he needs. He gets the cheap conditioner and baking soda and heads for the seasonal aisle. Puck goes down his list, humming along with the Christmas Muzak on the PA. He grabs candy canes, Christmas paper plates and plastic wine glasses with wreaths on them, a pack of tea lights with reindeer and, at the last minute, picks up a canister of cocoa with marshmallows and disposable hot cups with snowflakes on them. Puck figures he can deal with the heat for a couple hours if it means Finn gets his marshmallows. 

Puck gets home before an hour’s passed, and he closes the door quietly behind him. He quickly and carefully sets up the cocoa and cups in the kitchen next to the electric kettle their landlord had left for them, and puts together two plates of cookies, with a candy cane on each. Hughes’s wife had handed both of them tins of homemade sugar and thumbprint cookies with a wink at the last game, waving off Finn’s protests. Puck thinks that if they’re going to look like “eligible bachelors,” they might as well enjoy the pity. 

He turns the AC down another two degrees. It’s almost cold enough for sweaters, if either of them had brought any, but Puck does rifle around in the holiday box Carole sent with them and grabs a Santa hat, putting it next to Finn’s plate on the coffee table and rearranging it twice before he’s satisfied. 

Straining to listen for any movement from Finn, Puck pulls up the homemade snow recipe and frowns at the instructions. They don’t have a bin big enough for the recipe, but Puck finds a mixing bowl in the back of one of the cupboards. The advantage of subletting, he grins to himself, and starts indiscriminately pouring conditioner. 

It takes a few tries to get the right consistency, but once he does, Puck realizes he can mold the fake snow into almost anything, and by the time Puck hears _anything_ from Finn’s room, he’s made two snowmen families with tiny carrot noses and plopped all the extra “snow” in random fluffy piles around the living room. Sure, there wouldn’t be snow in their Lima living rooms, but there’s no pro baseball in December in Lima, either, so Puck hopes Finn can suspend a little disbelief. 

Puck’s just putting Finn’s presents under the tree and cleaning up stray strips of Christmas and Hanukkah paper left over from the holiday box when he hears their bedroom door open. 

“Puck?” Finn sounds sleep-hoarse and a little confused, and Puck ducks into the kitchen to throw out the paper before greeting Finn just outside the bedroom. “Why does it smell like sham--hi!” 

“Merry Christmas,” Puck leans up to kiss Finn, and takes his hand. “You want some cocoa?” 

“Cocoa?” Finn blinks.

“With marshmallows, even. C’mere.” Puck leads Finn into the living room, even as Finn is mumbling “marshmallows?” behind him. He stops at the entrance to the room and has to grin to himself, trying to see it from Finn’s perspective. There’s “snow” all over the edges of the room, the reindeer candles are lit and on all the tables, and Puck even turned on the tree lights. 

“Puck,” Finn whispers, and it almost sounds like awe to Puck. Puck watches Finn take in everything, and when his gaze stops next to the tree, Puck almost laughs out loud. The two snowmen families are flanking Puck’s iPad, which is playing the fireplace “show” on Netflix. Probably Puck’s finest touch, he thinks. Then it’s Finn’s turn to pull on Puck’s hand, and he drags Puck over to the coffee table, where Finn stuffs two cookies in his mouth immediately, and then puts on the Santa hat, turning to Puck with a grin full of crumbs. 

“I was going to ask how you liked Australia Christmas now, but maybe I’ll get you a napkin instead,” Puck laughs, and kisses the cookie off Finn’s mouth. 

“‘s the best, Puck,” Finn swallows audibly, and glances over at the tree. “Like Lima Christmas, but better.” 

“Yeah? Cool. Even the reindeer?” 

Finn pulls Puck into a hug and rest his cheek on the top of Puck’s head. “Yeah. Especially them.” 

“Good.” Puck nudges Finn’s head back up to kiss just above Finn’s collarbone. “‘cause there’s fifteen more for the bedroom.”

Puck shakes from Finn’s laughter and lets himself be pulled onto the couch and if he lands more on Finn’s lap than the couch, well, it’s not like anyone has to know. He leans back against Finn’s chest and they’re quiet for a few minutes, watching the fireplace show, with Finn occasionally grabbing for another cookie. It’s so peaceful that Puck’s almost drifting off to sleep, despite the cool air in the apartment, when Finn starts kissing his ear. Puck tilts his head so Finn has better access and sighs, leaning his weight heavier against Finn. 

“Hey Puck?” Finn murmurs into Puck’s ear, and tugs at Puck’s earlobe with his teeth. 

“Mmm?” is all Puck can manage, and squeezes Finn’s hand where it’s draped across Puck’s stomach. 

“I’m pretty sure you said there were marshmallows.”


End file.
